Things I've learned in Lesotho, Africa

1. A group of strangers from all over the US can become your friends and family very quickly.
2. Watching the sunrise each morning and set each night is a blessing
3. You can get clean with 2 buckets, a bar of soap, and less than 2 gallons of freshly boiled metsi (water)
4. You can scream while peeing in a bucket (not like I know this..but if someone were to try to open your bedroom door…)
5. Hiking is not a death sentence.
1. I an also hike in tights, under armor, and a pencil skirt.
2. This also doesn’t mean I enjoy hiking ;)
6. Latrines aren’t that bad…plus when you gotta go-well, you gotta go
7. PC humor is uhhhhMAZING
8. Cross-cultural activities are fabulous. *Please refer to Dance Party at my hut*
9. Love knows every language
10. A smile is universal-so wear it!

Sights and sounds of Lesotho

Morning: birds flying. You can hear the sounds of their wings flapping. Bath water is hissing as it reaches boiling temperature. Roosters crowing-all at various times. The splashing of my hands as I wash up before breakfast. Greetings in complete silence by the light of one candle to my ‘me’ and ausi. After the crunching of cereal with hot milk, homemade bread, and eggs I move outside. Wrapped in a traditional Basotho blanket and clutched to my steaming cup of coffee I sit and have my menthol cigarette. I watch the local women hang up their clothes on the line, dumping bath water buckets, and the men checking the gardens and getting the cattle ready to herd.

Facing the mountains exactly where the sun will rise. Occasionally pigeons land on the tin roof and fight. The noise is loud and erratic. The light dances over the peaks and valleys of the mountains. The first sun rays of the day go through the trees and touch my face, warming it

Cattle walks by, bells on their necks it always sounds like a band marching by. The Ntate (men) and abuti (boys) bark orders at the cattle and the herd fluidly changes direction.

This is my home.

Far for now…

Dance party at my hut!!!!

Dance party at my hut!!!!!

So, my first weekend in village was amazing! Saturday we had perfect weather. I began my day learning gardening vocabulary, and then home to begin our gardens. My first ever garden!! Unless you count my mom’s and helping her on the weekends as a kid J my sister and I start digging (not very quickly might I add) because I need 4 plots for all my food. Well, two boys walked by and offered to help.

Of course I let them. Duhh. I work smart not hard. They finish in minutes.

Anyway, while my other three plots are being created in the cold hard dirt, I was sewing together rice bags to cover my garden at night and keep it safe from the frost, snow, and hail that Lesotho gets during the winter.

Well, while doing this the family radio is jamming on full blast. A mixture of Rihanna, Celine Dion, and the occasional African jam. I am sewing and dancing all at the same time. Well, an American sitting outside jamming to loud music call A LOT of attention. Next thing I know I am surrounded by bo-‘me’ (women) and bana(children). Tons. The kids are singing and dancing while I sew, smoke, and dance from my seat. I am singing along with all the songs and providing my white girl flair to this super rad shindig I had going.

And then it happens. MY jam comes on the radio.

The one. The only. Willow Smith’s Whip my hair. Oh em ghee.

I jump up, throw my sewing needle to the ground, and stand in the circle of bana and proceed to whip my “sunshine” hair back and forth with all the kids. It was wonderful and absurd. The happiest Peace Corps moment I’ve had thus far.

Week One

Day One: two words.

Mind. Blown.

Wow. I wish I could honestly say that those 2 words sum it up, but there is no way to tell you about my first 24 hours in Lesotho. Frankly it was the most overwhelming experience of my life.

It started at the Jo’burg airport and a very tiny plane. Yes, smaller than the one in GSP. As soon as we got up in the sky, we were on our way back down to land in Maseru. The airport looked like a parking lot. Once thru security/customs (no line there), we were greeted by PC staff and PCVs. Kathy the country director was there too. I was given fruit and unique Basotho gifts. I forced my luggage onto a land rover and drove about an hour to my would be training village.

As we pulled up, the driver was honking the horn. This signaled the entire to run down the hill to greet me. I was like a celebrity with African paparazzi. I hardly made it out of the rover. Children were reaching for my hand and the women of the village were singing and dancing ecstatically and with joy. The children were beautiful. I was fighting back tears. Talk about overwhelming.

There is a small “ceremony” where I am introduced to my host mother, sister, and given my Sasotho name: Hlompho. I have since learned it means respect and dignity.

The whole ceremony is in Sasotho and I am seriously blind sighted by everything.

After said ceremony, my 120lbs of America is thrown into wheelbarrows and pushed up hill to my new home. Damn overweight luggage.

Then, we go on a village tour. I can honestly say I remember nothing but cattle and a few trees. Well, it nears 6pm and we are forced to our homes (can’t be outside after dark). I am shocked by the degree of darkness. No electricity is apparent, and I fade into the dark night.

My family can only smile at me and offer me food I have never eaten before. I can hardly eat. I make little conversation with my host sister, and then she shows me my room. The tour is quick yet thorough. She tells me which bucket is for the midnight bathroom break and then demonstrates how to bathe in the others.

She leaves.

I start unpacking, by candlelight, not an easy task. Once I feel a little better after emptying my bags, I fall onto my bed and cry. I couldn’t tell you why-just flooded with every emotion and the only reaction was tears.

Day two:

5:30am “Hlompho!!! Hlompho!!!”

I wake and let my ‘me’ in my room. She pours my warm water into my bath bucket. I take a bird bath. Will I ever feel clean again?

I put on my make-up, an attempt at normalcy, and get dressed as close to my heater as possible. Life without central air and heating is cold.

‘Me’ Mampho, one of our trainers, has a friendly smile and we begin our first ever Sasotho lesson. I barely take in the lesson and we are off to training. I'm dressed in a skirt, hose, hiking boots, and my trusty Northface for our first hike. We go up and down the rugged terrain- even over and through a river and also tons of mud. I was secretly hoping to end up at grandmother’s house lol.

Seeing my fellow PCTs almost brings me to tears. My fellow divas undercover are there, and instantly I know I am not alone.

All day is paperwork. I get my one phone call (kinda like jail, eh?) my family doesn’t answer. Devastated and in tears, I pack up and start my hike back home. Oh, did I mention my daypack has 20lbs in it. Oh goodness.

 Once home its fairly dark, so I am confined to the front porch. I sit with 5 Basotho children and smoke. They are simply thrilled to teach me Sasotho and throw back their heads and laugh when I mispronounce the words incorrectly.

I eat dinner with my host family (smaller portions thank goodness) and then proceed to sit with my host mom and sister to go over my Sasotho. I actually learned something today! Go me!!

Now off to bed with my handy dandy headlamp to write more letters.

Day three:

Still a basket case of emotions. I am thrilled to be here, then crying from homesickness. Oh Peace Corps.

I keep chanting that this is my goal, my dream. Not to be overwhelmed because this is the goal.

5:30am-bath. I actually wash my hair. I feel like a duck splashing around in my basin.

I didn’t lay out my clothes the day before in the daylight, so I scramble to find a suitable outfit. A tie-dye wrap skirt, purple shirt, chucks, hose, and my ninja turtle hoodie an my Northface. Good call Mom for making me pack that! J

Sasotho lessons for 1 hour. I am trying so hard. I am so slow at language learning. I try to stay optimistic.

We actually drive to the training village today. Amazing how and hour hike turns into  a 15 minute drive lol.

We walk in and get ready for some more learning. I hug my besties and sit. 10 weeks is gonna be a loooong time.

The night before, using my colored pencils, I made a colorful list of reason to be in Lesotho for two of my friends to serve as reminders when it gets tough. This was also for me too.

We learn about Lesotho, the CHED project, and diarrhea-Awesome day Peace Corps style.

Training is over-where is my rover?! It forgot us. So, armed with our PC manuals, a huge binder, and even heavier medical kit we hit the road-or shall I say trail?

We greet everyone we see with the Sasotho words we know. We take the long way home. We bond on these hikes (that doesn’t mean I like them tho…*wink*)

I get home. I’m too tired to even smoke (get excited Ma). I got to bed and take a quick nap. I cry. I’m still fighting homesickness. I am taking it one day at a time, and even then it’s difficult. *sigh*

I then wake up and force myself to be social. It’s pitch-black dark, and I am back by a lone candle with dinner and people who know little English.

Attitude is everything. I need to get mine on track. I do well at dinner and even help with the dishes.

I go to my room and unpack a little more and pick out my clothes for the next day.

Lineo (my host sister) and I talk for awhile, and then I journal.

The rain is loud on my tin roof-let’s hope I can get some sleep.

Day four:

Whew! Same ole same ole. Bathe in a bucket, Sasotho lessons, off to all day training. Shots with lunch (yippee) then cookies J 

Today we met the ambassador of Lesotho. She is a beautiful and incredibly genuine woman-I was so touched by her words. She was inspirational.

She reminded us that we were here because Lesotho needed us. The HIV rate is 23%, unemployment is 54%, and 4 million Basotho people live in South Africa because Lesotho has no work. It’s tragic.

Her stay in Lesotho is 3-4 years, so she will actually see our entire service J oh and guess what?! She will be swearing us in as PCVs in front of the king on September 15^th at the 50^th anniversary for the Peace Corps. How rad is that?!

I am starting to feel better. I bonded with another PCT today after our hike back to village. We made it back in 46 minutes. Go us! We were booking it AND no one fell despite all the mud.

Anywho, I had a much better day today. Then, before dinner I mad shadow puppets on the walls with my ‘me’ and Lineo. They laughed because when I made the bunny ears I sang “little bunny foo foo”.

I have decided my attitude affects this adventure, and as long as I kept mine in check I would survive this journey.

Also, a ton of kids stopped by to teach me Sasotho and to check out the new American with yellow hair. Oh fishbowl effect.

After dinner Lineo and I washed, rinsed, dried, and out away dishes while listening to Ludacris! I know right?!

*Globalization* sang in a sing songy voice-Cannot wait to tell  my soc professors all about this.

After that we drink coffee to get warm. Lineo makes mine Starbucks style-tons of sugar and creamer. And goodness knows I like a little bit of coffee with my cream and sugar. The coffee warms me up in a house with no heat in the middle of winter.

I am trying to fall in love with Lesotho.

Today was the first day I was excited to be a PCT-go me!!!

I love all of you. Miss you much! 

South Africa here we come!

5:15am comes all too quickly. Anne and I fly down to the lobby and get ready to ride to the NYC-JFK airport. I’m exhausted and my bags are crazy heavy, but adrenaline has me pumped. This is really happening!!! How exciting and terrifying!!!

The ride is long, and we are stuck in damn traffic fordamnever. We unload, check-in, and then run to security. One of my bags is overweight, so I head to pay my overweight fee only to have the lady behind the counter toss my passport back at me along with my debit card and say, “No ma’am. You are Peace Corps. Thank you for serving our country.”

Mind. Blown.

I run back to tell the other divas undercover that we won’t be charged; we all proceed to do a little song and dance in the middle of the checkout line ^_^ it’s ok though because people have been staring at us since our arrival. I suppose they appreciated the entertainment. LOL.

Well, we spend six hours at the airport snacking on pizza, sushi, and everyone sits down for an adult beverage before boarding at 3:30.

At 3 I call the people I love the most. Aka the people who would fly to Africa and beat my tail end if I didn’t call with updates. I cry with each final goodbye. My fellow PCTs give me hugs and a few cry too. Then we get in line to actually board the huge aircraft. While in line my little sister Carlie calls me and has me back in tears.

I cannot tell you enough how rad my family is and how a girl has never loved her family more than I do. Seriously. I’m writing this excerpt on the plane. Five hours into the 14 hour flight. Blehhh. The food was delish, and there is a pretty good selection of television and movies aboard. Us PCTs take up the entire back of the plane. The aircraft has the lights dimmed to get us ready for the new time zone, yet I cannot sleep.

I am up thinking about the weather in Lesotho. It will be cold, but how cold? My host family…please let them have little kids. My family back home…will they write? Miss me? Forget me? My nieces and nephew-will they remember how much I love them? My friends-who will actually stay in touch?  The person I love…Will I find a sleeping bag? Gahh so many worries! Oh the life of a PCT J

Well…let’s attempt this new sleep schedule. I love and miss y’all much!

Stay tuned for more talk about my African journey! 

On my way to Fresh Prince’s home: Philly!

So, after looking like the biggest dork ever squalling (Southern for crying) my eyes out as I arrive in Philly. Tara Hughes, another volunteer from SC who was also on my flight from GSP, exits the tiny aircraft with me and we set out to find the shuttle to take us to the Holiday Inn Downtown. *Another PCT (Peace Corps Trainee) told us abaout the deal*

On our way across and all over the Philadelphia airport we pass a sign advertising the Peace Corps that says “Never having to say ‘Should’ve’” we both get all giddy and took a picture in front of you. All I could think is that this experience is going to be full of serendipitous events, and I am ready for all of them.

We are apparently recognizable as Peace Corps walking to the shuttle by either our luggage (mine weighing in at a glorious 115lbs) the grunge, no makeup, and/or tear stained faces. Either way the driver asked is we were PC and then was forced to rearrange the entire luggage area. Thanks :/

Well, turns out our bus driver was from Africa!!! How crazy is that?! He moved to Philadelphia over ten years ago from Ethiopia, and told us Lesotho was great and a different side of Africa.

We get to the hotel, check-in, and go get some grub. A spinach and feta pizza with bruschetta hit the spot. Once back at the hotel, we register with the PC and meet the other volunteers. Already I can tell my friends, and I am thrilled to finally meet my new will-be extended family. Later that evening we head out to eat dinner. I sit with a group of gals, and we order too much food on purpose, and make is buffet style. Truffle fries, calamari, artichokes with zucchini and horseradish fries, and shrimp salad. And don’t forget a pitcher of sangria!

After bonding and learning where everyone is from in the states, I crash despite the fact that I swore to my roommate Anne that I wasn’t tired.

Training the next morning was great. I cannot tell you how enlightening the sessions were that day. We played icebreakers, created skits, and had in depth conversations about everyone’s anxieties concerning living abroad. I felt so relieved! I was with 20 other people in the same boat as I had been for the past year. Gahhh, why didn’t I meet them sooner?!

Once our training is done, it’s time to talk logistics. Our original flight to Johannesburg is delayed. And so then we miss our connecting flight to Maseru, Lesotho. So everything changes. Eeek! Now we are staying overnight in Jo’burg (oh drat)

Welcome to the Peace Corps. Remember talking about flexibility? Well, we are using it on day two. What a way to be broken in as PCTs ^_^

Through the glass...

The Journey has begun!!!! I guess the story should start at the very beginning…

There I was sitting on the floor of the parents’ house with two huge pieces of luggage, a daypack, a satchel, and a plethora of this and that. I’m sweating. Panicking. It’s 2am, and I cannot decide what I need in Africa and what seem frivolous. I meant it all seems that way. Ughhh. I fall into the arms of my best friend and cry.

Finally I sleep. 4:30am-7:30am. Three hours of rest before embarking on the greatest journey of my life.

We load up in two different cars. In true Biron family fashion the arguing over who sits where gets pretty ugly, people scream, tears are shed, but eventually the drama passes.

A little over an hour passes, ad we arrive at the teeny tiny airport known as GSP J My bags are overweight-big shocker?! I pay that first fee and off we go.

Caylea ia attached to my hip. Dad keeps his distance. Mom is fighting tears. Carlie has eh sunglasses over her eyes. Aunt Chris is making jokes. Chris is indifferent. Kyle is quiet. Stephanie is crying.

All the people, excluding a few, that I treasure and that have been instrumental in my Peace Corps dream becoming a reality in one po’ dunk airport in SC wishing me well.

After a menthol cigarette, I kiss and hug everyone goodbye. My heart is heavy ad full of love and appreciation for this group of people. Caylea will be inches taller next time I see her, Mom and Dad a little seasoned, Aunt Chris fiercer, Kyle a college student, and Stephanie a college graduate. It hurts to leave.

I get through security with the family watching through the glass, and with one more goodbye kiss blown through the glass I leave my family for two years.

Speechless

Writer’s block.

For any creative person this is the Black Plague. Words consume your every thought, but as a writer when none of said thoughts actually connect it is most frustrating. Since I officially received my invitation to serve as a Peace Corps Volunteer I have attempted to post a blog and failed. I was suffering from the Black Plague.

What does one say when their wildest dream becomes a reality? Thank you? Whoo wooo?

Part of my writer’s block was directly linked to the fact that I had not told my place of employment, The Burton Center, that I was resigning. The tiny town of Ware Shoals had become my home. Tina my work Mom, Barbara my work grandmother, Jeffery my big brother showing me the ropes, Nancy my Aunt, and Jessica my partner in crime :) All the worrying I did prior to putting in my resignation was in vain. I walked into Tina’s office with a perfect speech planned and my letter of resignation in hand. I sat in her chair and sobbed. Minutes later everyone, after asking me if I was kidding, knew that Cassie was leaving to work in Africa.

The drive home was a tranquil one. My work family knew I was leaving, and they supported me fully. I couldn’t be happier.

Now, I feel I’ve officially started my Peace Corps Journey. I am tying up loose ends for my position to be taken over by someone new, and I am spending time with the people I love the most before I leave.

Let the journey begin!